La Entropista

Dear Sweet Potato,

Will you be my Valentine? Please check one:

O - yes                             O - no                             O - maybe

I think you should. I like you because:

You serve me my shpiruuuleeena in an egg cup. You appreciate that it is important and lovely that the salmony-red in the varigated tulips match the vase perfectly. You understand that buying me a soft-boiled egg decapitator that breaks the shell off in a flawless ring will make me vibrate with OCD joy. And then you buy two. You take it personally when I tease you about homeopathy. Your mad sink-cleaning skillz. You got me this! in orange! HA HA!, and are nice enough to be jealous about it! You get as excited about Google Earth hacks as I do. You feel me up in the morning even though I’m still damp and feverish from sleeping. You really try to make me perfect toast, and you usually do. You say things like “I hiked in the Alps once, we walked and walked and walked, UPHILL!, and then! we had to walk BACK DOWN AGAIN!”

I like you even though:

You say things like “when do you want me to get you pregnant? before or after the dopamine wears off?” and “do you believe that placebos are effective on animals,on babies? no? then homeopathy WORKS!” You apparently refuse to beat the Depeche Mode tickets out of Johnny’s cold, dead hands so we can enjoy some Blasphemous Rumours together. I see your old girlfriends not only in the Karstadt The Nice Price CD rack, but on fucking MTV, too. You explain the etymology of German words so thoroughly that by the time you are done, I have already forgotten the word you are talking about. You are a music snob (actually, although it intimidates me, I kind of like that). That even though it would upset God, you still want to put your finger where only Jesus is allowed to go.

That’s not all, but I do not want to make the Internet throw up. I like you and you smell good, too.

love,

Desyl

HEY INTERNET: I know this sappy post was offensive to your delicate hipster sensibilities, namely your irony, your snarkiness, your independent-and-loving-it fabulosity, and I feel you on this, man, but considering last year’s VD, and its track history in general, just please LET ME HAVE THIS ONE. Thank you.